Into the Desert
by soulful-sin
Summary: What event could be so traumatic Jimmy Neutron would lose his faculties and succumb to insanity?


Author's Note:

To this site's readers:

Anyone who's been perusing my page lately (as in the last couple days) might have noticed I finally yanked my chapter fiction. Any fic that hasn't been finished will probably never be, unless my interest suddenly returns. I finished Nowhere Redux, but I have no idea where all the chapters went.

From here on in, I'm only going to post one-shots, unless there is such a great clamor people can remind me to update.

This fic takes place in an alternate universe inspired by Catalyst, and is actually the event leading to Jimmy's insanity. In the particular universe in which this event transpires, the situation was much more severe than the canon Catalyst. I've written a great deal involving Catalyst and what occurs because of it, but it's all on LiveJournal. If there's an interest and people can prompt me, I might reconsider keeping it there. But Jimmy Neutron is a dying fandom. Who knows.

To my LJ readers:

This is why I haven't updated in over two weeks. This behemoth ate any spare writing time I had. If I woke up at three in the morning, I opened up Word and wrote this.

I've edited it and rewrote a few parts, but it's far from polished. I hope, for those you who read it, that you enjoy my efforts.

**One last thing- this fic contains very graphic violence. It is not recommended for the squeamish.**

Into the Desert

It was a late autumn morning. Jimmy had been working outside, transitioning the new hovercraft's model. Right now, it was in the preliminary stages and had anti gravity disks underneath so it wouldn't collapse on him. Jimmy was optimistic about it. After this upgrade, it should be possible to calculate long distances and fuel expenditures, to prevent another calamity like the island disaster. Not that it had been a complete disaster, considering the discoveries that had transpired there…

"Hello, cousin."

Jimmy jumped, smacked his head into the hovercraft, and crawled out from under. Beautiful Gorgeous was holding Baby Eddie in her arms. Eustace leered, hands on his hips, beside her; Professor Calamitous peered curiously at Jimmy's invention, while the five aliens glared at him. His stomach clenched, a chill broke out over his body, and a few things on his body withdrew practically back into his body. How had they gotten here so fast, without even Goddard as a warning?

He glanced around the yard and discovered his beloved pet, battery drained, lying on the ground. An inarticulate cry escaped his lips and he rushed toward Goddard. A fist flew out of nowhere and slammed into his head. Dazed, Jimmy reeled backward, and another fist pummeled him until he crashed into the ground sideways. Jet Fusion stood over Goddard and his eyes had grown cold and hateful. Jimmy scrambled backward and Jet scooped him up from the ground.

"Mom! Dad!" he said and Jet clamped his hand over his mouth.

"They can't hear you anyway," Eddie snorted. "I've erected a soundproof barrier." Jimmy, eyes watering, twisted in Jet's hold to discover there was a faint shimmer around the house. He bit Jet's hand anyway and started flailing, kicking and punching. Another blow to the head stunned him, rendering him inert for the moment.

"You wouldn't want Cindy to hear you, would you?" Beautiful Gorgeous said and Jimmy gawked. He didn't have the power of speech back and Jet flung him to the ground. He groaned, backside striking the ground painfully, and stared up at the group. They began to snicker and Eddie chanted, "Punt him, punt him!"

"I don't really think that's necessary," Beautiful Gorgeous said. Her eyes narrowed. "We'll cut you a deal, kid."

"What?" Jimmy squawked. Given the way blood careened around in his head, it was a valiant effort to utter that one syllable. Eddie resumed his punting chant and Jet obliged him, pounding his foot into Jimmy's stomach and depriving him of air. He choked, Eddie snickered, and Beautiful Gorgeous gave Jet Fusion a warning look. Jimmy's vision swam and he saw white spots.

"You take her place and no one needs to know this ever happened," Beautiful Gorgeous continued. Jimmy spat out blood and the League waited, leering, for his faculties to return to respond.

After a few minutes of coughing and curling up into a ball, Jimmy glanced up at her. "What did Cindy do?"

It seemed a reasonable question, under the circumstances, but Beautiful Gorgeous dragged him back up by the nape of his neck and slapped him across the face. Jimmy's eyes watered again.

"She insulted me, and that's all you need to know. Take her place, or you'll watch her suffer."

Jimmy bit back a moan and Eddie snickered. Beautiful Gorgeous shook Jimmy hard enough to rattle his teeth and goose bumps broke out all over his body. He looked up at Cindy's house which was, for the morning, vacant. He couldn't remember where Cindy had gone, but given the blows he'd taken in the last few minutes, that wasn't particularly surprising. How had a typical Saturday morning gone so wrong so quickly?

"Well, Jimmy?" Jet said. "What's it going to be?"

Thoroughly disoriented, Jimmy squirmed in Beautiful Gorgeous's grip and Jet pounded him in the stomach again. Jimmy was back to coughing up blood and Beautiful Gorgeous grimaced, stepping back.

"Don't you dare get blood on my boots."

"Make up your mind, cousin. Tick tock, tick tock," Eddie snapped. He sounded unreasonably chipper and happy. Jimmy swallowed back bile and his lips quivered.

"Carl! Sheen!" he called and twisted around to look at his best friends' houses. Beautiful Gorgeous delivered another stinging slap and looked at Jet Fusion. Anxiety was written all over her face, and Jimmy was finding it incredibly hard to care.

"We can't wait around for him to decide. Jimmy's parents won't have heard him, but we can't take the chance his friends didn't."

"Depends on whether you care what happens to two little kids who wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time," Jet remarked coldly.

"He doesn't get a choice," Eddie opined. "Knock him out and let's get this show on the road."

"Jet?" Jimmy swung around to face his hero. "Why?"

"Because I've finally seen what being evil is all about," Jet said. "And I intend to make Beautiful Gorgeous very happy."

_Brainwashed, in other words, _Jimmy thought. He glanced at Carl's house and saw the curtains move in the kitchen. Carl had heard him. His heart clenched, uncertain his friend would reach him in time or even make the effort. The odds were against them, and he didn't trust Carl not to chicken out. Sheen would have run in there without a second thought.

"Let's go," Eddie said. Out of his diaper, he produced two large wooden blocks. The group stood together, close enough to touch, and he clapped them together. A horrible clanging filled the air accompanied by a gut wrenching sensation and his vision turned red. His lungs constricted and he couldn't bring in enough air. It felt like he was going to asphyxiate before the League even started on him.

Then, as quickly as the sensation arrived, it passed. They dropped him on a metal slab and iron clamps appeared to press him into the table. The group then dispersed, reappearing behind a two way mirror to quibble about what to do with him now that they'd captured him. Jimmy glanced at his arm, where an iron coil placed his watch closer to his hand than his wrist. He still couldn't reach it, but if it loosened up, he might be able to call for help. The League had set up a soundproof barrier around his house, but it didn't eliminate phone calls. And Goddard might be able to get back up and rescue him, if someone discovered the battery drain in time. Sweat trickled down his forehead. It was his only hope.

The argument took too little time for Jimmy's comfort and Eddie appeared in the room with the strange wooden blocks placed on a metal stool. He rolled another stool over to Jimmy and in one hand he clutched an electric cattle prod. In the other, he held a butcher knife. Jimmy's heart beat a staccato in his chest.

"The first thing you should know, cousin, is if you die, you can be brought back. Again and again. We've been working on this for months." He grinned from ear to ear. "And you will die. Repeatedly. You'll live and die until we've decided we're bored with you."

His brown eyes alit with malice. "But I won't get bored for a very long time. I promise."

Jimmy opened his mouth to query Eddie, then stopped. There was no trace of sanity in those dark brown eyes, no hope of reconciliation. He might be able to reach Jet, assuming the brainwashing hadn't penetrated too deeply, but Eddie was and always would remain a lost cause. Eddie sliced the knife through Jimmy's stomach and Jimmy screamed.

"It's like carving a turkey," Eddie said and grinned at him. The knife was about six inches into his stomach and blood had turned his red shirt a dark crimson. He proceeded to carve a large circle into his stomach. Blood soaked his shirt, the table, and he felt warmth. Blood flushed his face in embarrassment and Eddie snickered, realizing simultaneously as his cousin that Jimmy had soiled himself out of sheer terror. A leather mouth guard shot out of nowhere and muffled Jimmy's screams, but Eddie's laughter rebounded in the small, high ceilinged room. The walls were at least twenty feet high, with the mirror inset near the ceiling, and white as far as the eye could see. Since he was lying on his back, he had no idea if the room had escape doors, and a neck brace kept him from turning his head to look.

Eddie selected the cattle prod next and activated it right in Jimmy's gash. He buried it in the wound and Jimmy writhed, screaming in muffled agony. He smelled burnt ozone, tasted blood, and started gagging on it, unable to spit it out. Eddie patted him on the shoulder and switched the prod higher. Jimmy's vision turned red and he choked in earnest, the blood flooding back into his mouth with nowhere to go. All the while, his ears filled with Eddie's dark amusement. His vision flickered and Eddie slashed Jimmy's throat from ear to ear.

* * *

Jimmy thought he had died. A horrible gut wrenching sensation swept his body and he began to sob, still muffled behind the leather guard. Eddie had killed him, and then the League had brought him back to life, complete with a horrible yellow light that seared the inside of his eyelids. Now Beautiful Gorgeous was there, watching him, with Jet Fusion hanging around in the back. She looked uncomfortable. Jimmy wanted to curl in on himself and just _go home_. He'd forgotten completely about Cindy. He'd never been so petrified in his life.

"Stop crying already," Beautiful Gorgeous said. She shuffled from one foot to another.

"This was your idea," Jet reminded her. "You should be enjoying this."

"Eddie went too far," she said. "He shouldn't have killed him, not right off the bat like that. Look at him. We had to find a change of clothes because Eddie mutilated him."

"What do you care?" Jet asked. Jimmy almost wished he could stop crying, but he was dangerously close to hyperventilating, sobbing too hard to breathe properly. Beautiful Gorgeous began to do something with the mouth guard's sides and suddenly, it dropped, allowing him to breathe through his mouth.

"We were supposed to rough him up a bit," Beautiful Gorgeous said. "Not drive the kid repeatedly to an early grave."

"If you don't have the stomach for this, you shouldn't be here," Jet retorted. Jimmy flashed back on Eddie's treatment and bile rose in his throat. The neck clamp retracted and he rolled his head to vomit. Beautiful Gorgeous stepped aside and then moved back, careful to avoid the puke.

"We were supposed to punish him for what Cindy said," she insisted. "It doesn't mean we have to treat him like road kill."

Jet glared. "Go back behind the mirror, then, if you can't handle this. Let the big boys do their job."

Jimmy wished he could disassociate, something he achieved much more successfully in the next few years, to the point where his emotions completely disappeared on him by age sixteen. But for the moment, he had no such luck.

"We should let him go," Beautiful Gorgeous insisted. "He's gotten the hint. We don't have to do this."

"You're evil, not the kid's mother," Jet snapped.

"Look," she said, stomping her foot, "you can do what you want with him, but I still think it'd be best to dump him where we found him. He's never going to heal from the psychological damage after we're done with him, even if he's physically healed."

"And I don't particularly care," Jet growled. He pounded Jimmy's lungs.

"Let round two begin," he said.

* * *

Round two blurred into a procession of blows raining on Jimmy's unprotected body. Beautiful Gorgeous left and Jimmy was alone with his former hero, who had turned into a despicable human. His eyes glinted red and he never hesitated to land a punch. At one point, Jimmy lost his breath and rather than wait for him to regain it, Jet punched him in the face. Jimmy choked and sputtered, and finally Jet backed off, while Jimmy's diaphragm had a spasm. Blood sprayed from his lips and he whimpered, wishing again he could curl in on himself.

"Stop…" Jimmy pleaded. Tears fell thick and fast. "Please…"

Jet paused and surveyed Jimmy. Something flickered in his gaze and he stepped away.

"Okay," he said softly. "Maybe you've had enough."

Jimmy panted and looked up at the double mirror. Jet grabbed the wooden blocks Eddie had used to teleport himself into the room and disappeared. Alone, Jimmy glanced up at the double mirror and squirmed, trying to push the watch toward his palm enough so he could silence the phone and call someone. He might be able to tap out Morse code and hope someone could translate. Maybe his mother would know…or Cindy…

Thinking about Cindy made his bruised stomach turn and he coughed. Beautiful Gorgeous appeared and Jimmy stiffened, tensing himself for an attack. However, she only stared for a few moments.

"Personally, I think this has gone too far," she said. "We only wanted to teach you a lesson, not kill you."

She wrinkled her nose. "Except Eddie, who has always wanted to kill you."

Jimmy rasped his breathing and she paced the small room. Then she glanced at his wrist watch.

"We really should have removed that," she said. She stepped forward and Jimmy's brain worked furiously. If she did remove it, he was down his last bargaining chip. But he had nothing to barter with, and the League had all the power. And…was she moving the watch closer to his palm? It appeared she was, and lightly tweaking buttons to start it up. She'd turned so her back was to the mirror.

"Oh, well," she said. "It doesn't work anyway."

Jimmy blinked. She was lying to help him. He craned his neck at the double sided mirror and mouthed at her, "Thank you."

"Eustace is coming in to see you," she said. Then she turned again, placing her back to the other League members, and scrolled through his phone. She hit speed dial, muted the other side's speaker, and popped out with those hateful wooden blocks that reminded Jimmy of baby play toys. He tried to see Beautiful Gorgeous in the room above, but couldn't turn his head far enough.

Round three was Eustace. His skin crawled.

* * *

Eustace paced the table. He hadn't spoken since his appearance; his eyes scanned Jimmy hungrily and Jimmy squirmed, stomach clenching. The other boy halted, scrutinized Jimmy, and stroked Jimmy's forehead. Taken aback, he gaped at him. Eustace smiled, ruffling his hair. This was…unprecedented. First Beautiful Gorgeous helping him and now this.

He heard an almost inaudible click, letting him know someone had answered the phone.

"Where are we, anyway?" he asked.

"Oh," Eustace said and waved his hand dismissively. "That. Baby Eddie located a storeroom underground linking almost directly to the wine cellar in my basement. We're thousands of miles beneath Retroville at the moment."

"You wouldn't happen to know latitude or longitude, would you?" he asked.

"No…" Eustace paused, considering it. "I've always been terrible at geography."

"You don't have any intentions to kill me and then bring me back, do you?" he asked and his skin crawled. Eustace winced.

"That was Baby Eddie's fault," he said. "Oh, no, I have something different in mind for you."

"Like what?" he baited. "Listening to you gloat about how long it took for you to capture me, how you'd been planning this for years, and how many of you are actively plotting against me?"

_Come on, Eustace, blather on. The longer you take to answer my question and remain ignorant of the watch, the longer Goddard and the others have to triangulate my location and devise a rescue strategy._

"No," Eustace said and smiled. It sent chills down Jimmy's spine. He leaned over Jimmy and licked his ear. It was so strange, Jimmy flinched, and Eustace chuckled. He proceeded to nip his neck and smirked.

"They did say I could do anything."

In comparison to Eddie's torture, this was tame. It was also painless enough for Jimmy's mind to wander and test the bonds while the other boy was otherwise occupied. None of the ties were weak enough to break through his paltry physical strength alone, and he couldn't activate the laser beam while the phone function ran. The room would recover hover shoes to successfully escape, and he had no idea whether the outfit change he'd undergone had stripped him of the shoes. Damn. Maybe if he could manipulate Eustace, he could seize those little wooden blocks and teleport himself out. Jimmy craned his neck to see where Eustace had dumped them- on the steel stool he'd first glimpsed arriving. It reminded him of Eddie and he almost vomited.

A brutal slash across Jimmy's cheeks brought him sputtering back into the real world. Gasping, he strained to see the marks Eustace had left- according to the searing pain, he'd cut entirely across his lips. Eustace's eyes flickered with malice.

"We've always had a love-hate relationship, you and I," he said. Jimmy glowered.

"I thought it was all hate," he said. He was tempted to bait him, but it was never smart to goad someone in the position Eustace was in versus Jimmy's completely indefensible state.

"Yes, yes," Eustace said, no longer listening to him. He trailed a knife down his cheek, slicing open skin along his neck, shoulders, and arms. He brought the blade perilously close to the carotid artery and, for a few seconds, Jimmy held his breath. Then Eustace smirked, carrying the line down Jimmy's chest and ending at his crotch. He tensed and Eustace lowered his head to Jimmy's crotch, rubbed his face along it (Jimmy was too shocked to be horrified), and then planted the knife in Jimmy's stomach.

"I never was very good at drawing out the moment," Eustace lamented. He lifted his head and removed the knife to slice open Jimmy's leg. Jimmy screamed and Eustace cut deeper, until Jimmy could swear he'd severed tendons. The blood drained from his face and he whispered frantically, praying to the scientific heads, but tempted to pray to God or any higher power that might free him from this.

"And here, James, is your severance package," he added and dipped the knife into Jimmy's neck again. Rather than a vicious slash like Eddie, he pressed the blade against his carotid artery and applied pressure. His cruel, bizarre laughter echoed in the little room and in Jimmy's mind.

A voice not his own hissed, _**Bastard**_.

* * *

A bright light burned his eyes and then he became aware of someone. He was still on the table, watching a scalpel rove from hand to hand before his brain caught up with his vision. His breath hitched in his throat. According to his calculations, he'd died twice so far, and now, he was alive a third time. It was unnatural. He shuddered and whimpered, too afraid of what laid ahead of him to suppress his fear.

The room's lighting had changed. Now, a sole spotlight rested on Jimmy and a figure passed the metal between his hands in shadow. Jimmy thought it might have been one of the aliens. He didn't know, and he didn't really care at this point. He just wanted, more than anything in the world, to be home. He'd even settle for his father's lectures.

The minutes passed and the figure lingered, passing the blade from hand to hand and not doing anything. Sweat trickled down Jimmy's forehead and neck. His heart raced and his palms clenched. His heart had leapt into his throat. Bereft of a view, Jimmy's vision nonetheless darted around to the figure whose hands he glimpsed, to the ceiling, to where he knew the mirror room to be. For a few seconds, his breath hitched. Then he glanced again at the creature, for it could not truly be called a man. Antennae stuck out from his head and obscured most of his view, and he perceived a strange hue to the creature's skin, darkened by the shadow he cast.

"For a human, you're a twitchy little thing," Zix said.

"Are you going to do anything or not?" Jimmy asked. It might have held bravado if Jimmy hadn't been so horribly mutilated in the last few…he didn't even know the time construct.

"Nah," Zix said. He smirked. "I figure you've suffered enough."

He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't want to cut you open- it's been done. You've already been killed…and frankly, if you've seen one kid wetting themselves, you've seen 'em all."

Jimmy flushed and Zix smirked. "Plus, a kid bursting into tears- you really are pathetic."

If possible, his cheeks stained deeper. He'd never felt so embarrassed in his life, not even when Cindy had control over his body. Zix's eyes ran over Jimmy and examined him from all angles.

"Why do you still have that watch?" he said and snatched it. "You really think you can call for help?"

He pocketed it. "Still, it's a nice watch. It'd be a shame to waste."

Jimmy gulped and Zix smirked, patting him on the head. He drew a deep line with his scalpel across his forehead and Jimmy winced at the bone hitting metal. Zix chuckled.

"You're gonna get far worse before the day's through, kid, so just be glad I only left you a little scar."

He removed two wooden blocks from his pocket, the teleportation devices, and clipped them together. In a flash of light, he vanished, leaving Jimmy alone. He tried to rally his spirits, but the only method of escape he had was gone now. Until the League tired of him, he was theirs. He couldn't even know if his message had reached someone. His stomach revolted and he turned his head, only producing bile and no vomit. He quivered and he felt as weak as a newborn kitten.

* * *

His back up battery had come in handy today.

Goddard smashed Carl's window open getting inside. Once there, he barked frantically, tail swishing, and jumped on Carl and Sheen. The duo had been watching television, Carl waiting for his llama show to go on, Sheen staring at the set and wishing he hadn't seen this Ultra Lord episode twenty times. It was one of his least favorite episodes, too, and he was almost glad for Goddard's interruption, especially considering how dramatic it had been.

Glass shards went everywhere and before it could cut them, Goddard produced a shield snatching the remains in the air, disposing of them, and then turned to the boys. It was like a giant vacuum- Sheen could actually see the pieces flying toward them, and then reverse their flow. Within the blink of an eye, the room was clean, albeit missing a window.

"What's wrong?" Sheen said. "Why are you-"

Goddard couldn't sit still. Little red sirens came out of his ears and blared. He shut them down a moment later and struggled to stand in one place. He opened his screen and a frantic message appeared. Sheen paid no attention, back to Ultra Lord; he shut off the TV and Sheen jerked like he'd smacked him.

"Hey? What gives?"

"Jimmy! Jimmy needs you! Right now! He sent an SOS, but someone cut off the message! I got a lock on his location, but…it keeps jumping!" Goddard said. He had to repeat the message twice for Carl to read, since he flashed it by so fast. Once he was sure the boy had received it, he moved onto the next screen.

"His vitals plummeted, and…it must be an anomaly. He's died twice in one day."

Carl and Sheen exchanged glances. Their mouths dropped and Goddard bounced up and down in the air again.

"He's underground, and it'll take some time to get to him. Time is of the essence. I'm afraid, next time…he'll die for good."

Sheen and Carl blanched. Sheen cast one last, disparaging look at the TV, and stiffened his resolve. His face was taut and his hands in fists. Carl, in contrast, trembled and seemed ready to jump behind his bed until it blew over.

"Then what are we doing here?" he asked. "Jimmy needs us."

"Are you…?" Carl's words died and Sheen glared.

"We're going. Lead on, Goddard."

* * *

Grandma Taters had decided Jimmy's ill treatment merited her singing to him for what felt like an eternity. She sang the same song every five minutes, gagged Jimmy so he couldn't protest, and watched him squirm. In terms of punishment, compared to the others, it was rather tame, but hey, listening to the same thing over and over every five minutes for hours was punishment enough. She was off key, which made it worse, and her high-pitched singing voice drove out any rational thought Jimmy had left. He almost thought his brains had turned to mush in between his ears.

On and on she droned, with nothing to tune her out and no way to escape. To make matters worse, while he couldn't compose an escape plan, whispers had commenced in his mind. He didn't recognize the voices, and the singing prevented him from hearing their message, but it made his hair stand on end. The idea he wasn't alone in his mind was very unsettling.

She watched his reactions carefully, altering her performance accordingly. Whenever she reached an area he particularly disliked, she exaggerated it, altering it so it grated more on his nerves. Then, seeing it had the desired result, she plodded on until she found another area, and repeated the strategy.

After a while, he had trickles of thoughts beyond her song. Before Zix had taken the watch, had it gotten through? Was there a chance? And if so, who had gotten the message?

_**Insipid puerile garbage**_, a voice snarled in his head and he felt its scorn directed at the alien woman singing to them. Him. Another shudder wracked him. Since when had he become plural?

* * *

Goddard's Flycycle only fit one and Goddard led them to the back of the clubhouse, where Jimmy had been working on his hovercraft. Goddard scrutinized it, knocked off the anti gravity disks, and made a few repairs while Carl and Sheen watched. Sheen was pumped, ready to fight, and Carl looked nervous. He swallowed hard, trying not to vomit, and shuffled his feet. Goddard moved in a blur and after a couple minutes, landed in front of them. He stared at them and opened his screen.

"I've input Jimmy's last known coordinates," he said. "It should be set on auto pilot. Hopefully, I've completed whatever upgrades Jimmy desired and the hovercraft is stable."

"And if it isn't?" Carl said.

"We'll burst into flames and die," Sheen said and flopped into the hovercraft. "C'mon, let's go."

"I…I don't wanna burst into flames," Carl said. He swallowed several times and looked decidedly green. "Are you-are you sure Jimmy really needs us? I mean, isn't there someone else who can help?"

"C'mon," Sheen snapped and yanked Carl into the hovercraft. He grabbed the helm and prodded random buttons. Goddard nosed his way in between them, started it up, and ignored the burglar alarm shrieking through the neighborhood. He shut it off and stared at the hovercraft's floor for a few minutes. Sheen thought he might've been embarrassed.

"What if he's, you know, d-d-dead again?" Carl gulped.

Sheen gripped the steering wheel tightly enough to whiten his knuckles, although the hovercraft was on autopilot. He didn't want to answer Carl's question. Goddard didn't reply either. Tension was high enough without adding to it.

* * *

Grandma Taters depressed a switch beneath Jimmy's slab and elevated it, then split the slab in two allowing him to look above into the little room. She smirked, presented her back to the audience, and loosened Jimmy's cuffs. A brief smile flitted across her face, and she clipped the cymbals to transport herself away. Jimmy grimaced. The only reason she'd stopped singing was because she'd started croaking instead. It could hardly be considered divine providence.

The League spoke out of earshot and Jimmy ought to have been relieved he was alone. Instead, he wondered when the next strike would fall and how bad it would be. Panic consumed him and he hyperventilated, struck by the unpleasant realization this would never end. He choked and red spots ate his vision. He convulsed, head smacking into the slab, and was dimly aware of a black haired figure tugging on his bonds. The black chased the red, the binding around his neck vanished, and someone, probably the raven haired woman, produced an oxygen canister.

"Baby Eddie's gone too far," a familiar voice said. Jimmy's vision cleared by bits and pieces and he realized the woman before him was none other than Beautiful Gorgeous. She had undone all his fastenings and gathered him in her arms.

"The rest of the League is arguing what to do with you," she said. "They're not paying attention to the window."

"Why are you-" he swallowed the words.

"No one deserves to go through what you did, kid," she said. "I wanted to punish you for what Cindy said. A little death trap you'd escape. It'd piss me off, but it wouldn't be permanent. Not like this."

He looked at her right hand, where she had the teleportation devices. She smiled at him, locked her arms around him, and readied herself.

"Hang on. These haven't been perfected yet."

She clipped them together, there was a discordant scraping noise, and red consumed his vision again. It felt like someone had knocked the breath out of him and his stomach clenched, threatening to dispel the little bile remaining. They slammed into the ground outside Eustace's mansion and Beautiful Gorgeous rolled off him. Jimmy relearned how to breathe and jerked at her soft touch upon his wrist. He yanked it back and she scoffed.

"I'm giving you back your watch," she said. "Calm down. Jeez."

He relaxed minutely and she strapped it back on. Rolling her eyes, she jumped to her feet.

"You have a homing beacon on that thing?" she asked.

Jimmy's heart raced and he was still waiting for the next attack, for her to snatch him back and begin again. She tapped her foot, grimaced, and knelt at his side. She opened it again and made a little radar dish appear. Satisfied, she rose again.

"I hope your friends find you before the League does."

She clipped the blocks together and vanished in a brilliant white light. Jimmy rolled over onto his side and stared at the bright blue sky. She couldn't have dropped him off back home. Then again, who knew if they were coming to get him? His skin crawled and he wanted to be someone, anyone else. He didn't want to be here.

_**You don't have to be. Let me take control.**_

_James, don't. He isn't ready_.

_**He needs this**_, a voice growled savagely at the other voice and switched its attention to Jimmy. _**Who would you rather be? Yourself or someone else?**_

Jimmy felt a mental hand reach for him and he clasped it. Gratefully, he sunk into nothingness.

* * *

Goddard brought the hovercraft to an abrupt halt in mid air and almost dislodged Carl and Sheen. It descended at dizzying speed and landed on the Strych grounds. He had thought they had to tunnel underground, but the signal had changed. He planned accordingly. Carl and Sheen didn't appreciate the breakneck speed, but Goddard wasn't concerned with them right now.

Once the hovercraft had completed its abrupt drop, he scanned the ground. He was relieved to discover his master, dazed, on the grounds. Except there was something wrong with him. He appeared to be in almost perfect physical health, aside from a gash on his forehead, but his mental health was off. Two brain waves he didn't recognize now featured prominently and when Jimmy opened his eyes, they were a cold, clear cerulean.

"Jim-Jimmy?" Carl gasped. "Are you okay? How'd you get that gash on your forehead?"

Jimmy shuddered, stared at himself, and slowly rose to his feet. Sheen and Carl helped him onto the hovercraft and Jimmy continued to survey the scene, like he'd never seen it before. He shut his eyes and reopened them, still staring blankly. Carl and Sheen gawked. Jimmy felt off, alien.

"Dude, what happened?" Sheen said.

Jimmy looked pained. "Nothing of any great significance."

"You died!" Carl gasped. "Twice!"

At the same time, Sheen said, "Nothing? Dude, what do you call that thing on your head? And Goddard freaking out?"

"I…" Jimmy faltered and shuddered. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at his hands. He chilled and he hugged himself. He was unusually pale.

"Goddard, get us away from here," he rasped. His eyes darted around and Goddard recognized Jimmy's brain wave reappearing. But it wasn't in control. Then, who was?

"We raced to save you and you're not even going to tell us what happened?" Sheen said. Jimmy glared, hugging himself tighter, and Carl placed a hand on Jimmy's shoulder.

"Hey, we're here for you," he said gently and Jimmy growled, inching away from him with eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted. He wouldn't meet the boys' eyes and stared at their surroundings.

"O-kay…" Sheen said. "I'm confused."

"You don't have to tell us right away," Carl said. "It can wait."

Jimmy inclined his head to acknowledge his statement and glared at trees. Sheen shrugged, Carl tensed, and Jimmy plopped himself into the hovercraft. Goddard pressed a few buttons and altered the autopilot from the Strych's yard to Jimmy's house. He cast a disparaging look at Jimmy, who had settled into a corner and was rocking gently, arms wrapped around his knees. Sheen and Carl opened their mouths and shut them, neither daring to speak.

The hovercraft rose and Carl and Sheen remained silent. Goddard continued to sense something amiss, opened his snout and howled. Jimmy's eyes narrowed and he hissed.

"Cease that, you mutt. I have a headache."

"Jimmy?" Carl said and Jimmy whipped his head to stare at him.

"Dude, since when do you…" Sheen's mouth dropped.

"I'm sorry," he said, in clipped tones. "I'm not myself. Please forgive me."

Carl and Sheen shifted uncomfortably and exchanged another look. Goddard didn't howl, but he kept a close eye on his master. Jimmy lowered his head, and remained staring at the group. Goddard shivered- he was disturbing him. His gaze seared right through him and his lips trembled; his hand tapped erratically and he seemed unaware of that, continuing to fixate.

"Disembark near my lab, Goddard," Jimmy commanded. He took no more notice of his friends than he would an insect beneath his feet. The hovercraft was currently only a few blocks away from Jimmy's house and despite the beatific scenery Goddard's inner sensors pinged in alarm.

"You'll tell us what happened some time, right?" Carl inquired quietly. Jimmy feigned not to hear him. His fists clenched upon the hovercraft's steering wheel and he focused on his house in the distance.

"Right…" Carl echoed, shuddering.

"Goddard said you were working on the hovercraft before whatever it was happened," Sheen said, breaking the mood with fake joviality. "What were you going to do?"

Jimmy halted and gritted his teeth. He clenched his eyes shut and remarked in a strained voice, "Goddard, this is on auto pilot, correct?"

"Yes," Goddard answered aloud, and, because Jimmy wasn't looking at him, added his vocalization. Jimmy inclined his head and his knuckles whitened on the wheel.

Carl and Sheen exchanged another look and silence descended upon the small group. They skimmed over trees and hit leaves on their descent. They landed on the lawn and Jimmy lingered, struggling to master himself. Carl laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched at it.

"I understand you need some time alone," Carl said gently. "We're here for you."

Jimmy inclined his head again and his throat constricted. He disengaged from the hovercraft, trembled and fell over. His friends jumped out of the hovercraft and hastened to him. Goddard yipped and noticed the new brain wave skittering around.

"Damn it," he muttered. "I should have known it wouldn't work."

Then his eyes rolled back in his head, he sniffled, and collapsed. Blood ran in a thin stream from his nostrils .

* * *

The body was bleeding. Unseen, barely noticed, someone fought to rise to the surface and remedy the situation. Jimmy wanted to take control again and that should be fine, except he was too traumatized. In the meanwhile, he had to be tended to. Someone had to ensure he reached safety and no one could harm him further. Someone had to record Jimmy's incident and ensure Jimmy was lucid enough to tell it before disassociation stole him.

He didn't dare open his eyes; instead, he kept them closed and listened to Carl and Sheen panic. Goddard hoisted him to safety and he waited, hoping he'd never have to assume control again. He hoped and yet, he knew better. The body shivered for an entirely different reason.

* * *

None of it mattered. His parents fussed over him and it was like background noise, an activity hum letting him know he hadn't died. He felt himself drifting in and out and didn't care. He didn't want to feel again. To feel was to invite the pain. Above everything, Jimmy was terrified to contemplate it. He didn't want to be him. Being him had gotten him killed twice.

The voice seemed perfectly willing to help him. He'd assimilate until it was safe to be someone else. Jimmy was dimly aware the voice was more than a voice and might be an entirely different person inside him, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd have gladly accepted the puppet role as long as he didn't have to confront what laid ahead of him.

Unfortunately, the last encounter had worn out the voice, and Jimmy stared dully, scaring his friends and family. They'd reluctantly left him alone to plan their next action. They'd never gone outside of earshot, but once they were outside of his sight, it was like they had vanished. Disappeared, like he'd been, into the blackness from which there was no escape until the blinding brightness and the slab. Not being able to feel anything wasn't frightening- it was feeling everything. A scream clawed its way out and he pressed his face into the pillow.

"Jimmy!" Goddard cried and flew to his side. Jimmy rolled his head toward the door, but his parents were no longer there. An inner prompting compelled him to speak, propped him up when he wanted to fade back into oblivion. It seemed sympathetic, though a little abrasive.

"I expect you want to know what happened," he said. Goddard cocked his head and, in a monotone, Jimmy proceeded to explain. It took him longer than he thought and by the end, he was too weak to hold his head up. The presence comforted him, told him it was no longer necessarily to be strong and let him cease existing.

* * *

His eyes were so faded now. Cindy stifled a sob. At age eleven, they'd been a brilliant sapphire, gorgeous and intelligent. At age seventeen, barely in control of his body, they were closer to grey. He stared through her and Goddard at the doorway didn't register with him. Why should it? Jimmy hadn't recognized him. True, his creation had changed since he had last known him.

He was no longer his sleek dog self; instead, he'd been replaced by a cybernetic human, who looked almost identical to a real teenager. His grey hair was straight and well kept, closely cropped to his head. He wore a black hoodie today, and white jeans, with bare grey feet visible. His face was heart shaped and someone had crafted him with loving care. Though Goddard was Jimmy's creation, that someone had not been Jimmy.

In terms of body structure, Goddard was lanky, about six feet, two inches tall. He spoke in a rich baritone and could affect an accent at a moment's notice. He wrinkled his forehead in concern and his silver eyes linked to his master. His horrible, wretched master.

"You think it's okay not to feel any more, Neutron?" she snapped. "That it's all right to space out and not deal with things?"

She was upset and horrified simultaneously. She didn't want to rag on him, but if there was a chance, however remote, upsetting him might bring him back, she'd be willing to try it. She'd tried everything else.

Jimmy ignored her. Instead, he fingered the locks another person had let grow, the earring he hadn't known about until this morning, and looked at his clothing. He had a red corduroy shirt on, with baggy blue jeans, and scuffed red sneakers. His room was a mess; the area someone else had straightened converging with the area the main person in charge had seized. Jamie owned the room. Jimmy was an occasional houseguest.

"Do you even know how old you are?" she asked.

"Should I?" he asked.

"Damn it, Neutron," she hissed. "It's been almost a year since Jamie told me you weren't coming back."

"I…" he paused. His gaze settled on her and he seemed slightly more _there_ than earlier. "I don't know what to tell you. I've stopped feeling for so long-"

"You gave up!"

"Wouldn't you?" he whispered. Like a tired refrain, he said, "I did this for you, Cindy."

"I know you did."

She cupped his face in her hands and tried not to stiffen. She was too used to Jamie's eyes staring back. Jimmy's lips quirked.

"Would you have done the same?"

She would have, in a heartbeat, but it didn't matter. He'd sacrificed so much; he hadn't been Jimmy Neutron since he was eleven. It'd been six long years hoping for a sign and now, holding a conversation with him, there wasn't enough of him to go around. In avoiding his past, he'd spread himself too thin and now there was almost nothing left.

"Was it worth it?" she asked.

Jimmy cocked his head, considering. "I don't know."

That, to her, seemed the greatest injustice of all.


End file.
